


Stranger Drabbles

by brodiew



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, F/M, Family, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-06-06 00:26:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15182693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brodiew/pseuds/brodiew
Summary: This my Stranger Things drabble, ficlet, one shot, and more thread. Prompts are welcome, encouraged actually. I will be all over Hawkins in this thread dealing mostly with The Party, Hopper-El dynamic, Mileven, Max/Lucas, and the occasional Jopper. Also expect the unexpected...as in AUs. I hope you will enjoy yourself.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Have fun and enjoy Stranger Things in short form. Questions welcome as are prompts.

Silent

It wasn't long after the Snow Ball Dance, that Hopper relented (Joyce could be persistent) and let El have time to hang out with her friends. It was at the Wheeler house and it was supervised. If Hopper was going to let El spend time with Mike, her sure as hell wouldn't let her do it alone. Joyce was there of course, but she thought the spark of romantic interest was adorable and would, likely encourage it without even knowing. No, The Sheriff had his eyes on Mike Wheeler. The kid was okay, but he was a boy, and boys tended to lose control of their hormones in the presence of girls. That's why Hopper and a gun. And he made sure Mike knew it.

It turned out that there was nothing to worry about. They were Eight graders after all. El didn't talk much which meant she felt safe and comfortable. If she had been a nervous chatterbox, he would have known something was wrong and the evening would have ended far sooner. She huddled close to him at the table as they ate dinner. She didn't participate in the game they played (Clue), but watched intently as Professor Plum was reveled to have killed Miss Scarlet in the Conservatory with a rope. She sat at Mike's side, on the couch, clutching his arm, while they watched a movie (The Love Bug). It was all very innocent. I was all very needy. It was all very needed.

Hopper watched from the kitchen, Joyce at his hip. She hugged his arm, and rested her head against it. There was comfort and safety there, too. He caught El's eye and gave her wink. She returned the wink with a smile so lovely and innocent; so thankful and peaceful, that he had to look away. The mist of emotion clouded his vision. After wiping his eyes, he returned her gaze only the find her eyes back on the movie. He moved the arm that Joyce had been resting on and pulled her into a light hug. Comfort and safety.

 

Night

It was after eleven when Hopper carried the sleeping El to his truck and strapped her in. She mumbled something that sounds like 'good-bye Mike' but he could be sure. He waved to Joyce, who stood on the porch hugging herself against the chill, and climbed into the driver's seat. He looked over at his passenger and surprised to find his daughter awake and pinning him with a furrowed brow and intense eyes. Hopper resisted the urge to show irritation or role his eyes at her. Instead, he nodded his head gently and smiled in surrender.

"Good-bye to Mike?" he asked, tired, but willing to give her what she wanted.

"Yes," El replied, a hint of disbelief in the one word.

Hopper's weary smile reached his eyes. "Go on then. But, be quick, like bunny."

El opened the door and darted from the truck. She was at the door, and inside, before he could blink. Joyce sauntered over to his window with a cheesy momma bear grin on her face.

"Jim Hopper, you old softy," she mused.

"Yeah, but it's a state secret so don't tell anyone," he droned. Reaching for his pack of cigarettes in the cup holder, he added. "She wanted to say bye to the boy."

"I figured," Joyce replied.

The Sheriff retrieved his lighter from the console and shook a cigarette from the pack. Taking the but in his mouth, he went to light it.

"I'll be damned," he muttered, bouncing the cigarette between his lips. He saw El emerge from the house and make her way back to the Bronco. "She was quick." Removing butt from this mouth, he shoved it back in the pack. The lighter returned the console.

The young teen hopped in and buckled up, beaming. She sat straight up and looked out the windshield, perhaps trying to get a glimpse of Mike. Hopper turned to Joyce who kissed him on the cheek and with a 'get her home to bed' wave of her arm, returned to the house.

"All set," he said, starting the ignition.

"All set," she replied, with a tight nod of her head. Her cute curls bounced in the moonlight and Hopper could not imagine a more perfect moment.

 

Cold

When the Sheriff said he had been keeping El's presence a secret, something inside Mike snapped. In retrospect, the something was selfish, needy, loving, protective, pitiful, and down right desperate. But, in the moment, it was self righteous rage. How dare Hopper keep El from him? How dare he allow the gaping wound that was El's 'death' to fester? How dare he?

Mike's rage about El being missing was so strong, that he momentarily forgot that she was standing in front of him, reaching out. His emotions were at once so relieved that she was alive, but ever more strained because she was so close all along. He flew at Hopper, beating his chest, calling him a liar and worse. Suddenly, the Sheriff had Mike by the elbow and forcefully ushered him into the nearest room for privacy. The young teen ignored most of Hopper's admonitions, but at the sound of El's name, tuned in.

"...needs you to get hold of yourself. I didn't ask you to approve of my choices. This is bigger than just you. But she needs you to get over yourself and get back out there!"

Still seething, but seeing the truth of Hopper's words, Mike took a deep breath. He wiped his eyes of angry tears and proceeded to calm down. His anger at the Sheriff had not abated, but he now saw that El was more important that his tantrum. Redirected, but still defiant, he said: "This is not over."

Hopper huffed in disbelief and pointed at the door. "Yes, it is."


	2. Vexation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike is pining over El and will not get out of bed. Ted comes to make sure he gets up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my prompt response for 'Wants some deep sh*t', who requested some angsty Mike related to Wheeler family issues. I'm not sure if this hits the mark, Deep, but I tried. But, make no mistake, there is more Mike angst to come in Stranger Drabbles.

Vexation 

Mike Wheeler could not muster the energy to get out of bed. His mother had already called twice and dear old dad would be marching up the stairs any moment to get him moving. Though he would prefer to avoid a confrontation, he just couldn't muster the 'want to' to get out of bed. It was day 29 since El had vanished and it already sucked just was much as the 28 days before it. 

He turned to his right and spied the the digital clock on desk. 7:03. He was only thirty minutes behind schedule and if he didn't eat his All American breakfast of bacon and eggs and toast and orange juice, he might still make it. A frosted strawberry Poptart would be nice...and fast. But, no. Mom didn't like her kids having 'pure sugar' treats for breakfast.

With effort, Mike threw back his blanket and sat up. That was a far as he got before visions of El in a sleeping bag up to her neck smiling loving up up at him. His chest clinched and the moment of peaceful joy was swallowed up the knowledge of the truth. El was gone. Gone, but not forgotten. Gone, but not dead. Gone, but not available to love. His mood darkened and the prospect of a fight with his dad seemed more and more inviting. He laid back down and folded his hands behind his head. 

From his upper bunk, he saw the door open before he heard the light squeak of the hinges. 

"Michael," his dad said in that dull monotone that made Mike want to rip his hair out. His dad was tall and his head and shoulders rose about the bed frame. "Your mother has called you to breakfast twice. What is the hold up?" 

"I'm not feeling so hot, dad," Mike groaned, feigning illness. "I threw up in the middle of the night."

Ted Wheeler looked caught between fight or flight and disdain for his son's antics. It was confusing to Mike for many years until he realized that his dad didn't give a crap as long as he wasn't inconvenienced. This gave Mike special talent as long as he didn't push his advantage too far.

"Does that mean you're not going to school?" Ted asked, as if that fact were all that mattered. 

Mike screwed up his face. "Gee, son, I'm sorry you're sick. What is it that feels yucky?" 

Ted's face seemed to set like wet concrete. It was hard for Mike to tell if anything had changed when his dad's full range of expression consisted of tiny shades of disinterest.

"You better check that attitude, Michael," his dad droned. "I won't have it and I don't want your mother dealing with it either."

"Why woudld I give her any attitude, Ted," Mike said, pointedly. "At least she cares if I'm sick or not." 

Ted took the provocation in stride and replied: "Are you sick, Michael, or are have you been smoking pot out in the tool shed?" 

"What?" Mike exclaimed, incredulously. "Smoking pot, dad? That's all you've got? Yeah, that's me. Don't you know it! I roll my own joints and get high every day." 

Mike climbed down from his bed and went to his dresser for clothes. 

"What should I be thinking, Mike?" His father inquired, dully. "You're moping around the house in a fog and this outburst is consistent with how you've been acting. You're moody an-"

Mike whirled on his dad. "You're damn right I'm moody, dad. This house is like a mausoleum. Everyone mopes around. Why am I so suddenly different? Did you even notice that my best friend was kidnapped and was missing for almost a week? Granted, he didn't die, but it was a big deal dad. Remember Feds coming to the house?"

"Michael," Ted said blandly, still not rising to Mike's level of frustration. "I'll ask you one more time to calm yourself and find a respectful tone."

"Or what?" Mike nearly screamed. "You'll take away my toys?" 

Mike could hear footfalls on the stairs as, no doubt, both Mom and Nancy came running. They both entered the room as Ted dropped his disciplinary bomb. 

"Michael, I don't have to take your toys. You'll need something to occupy yourself when I take your friends...for a month." 

"What?" Mike cried, anger fuming. His face colored and he began to tremble. 

"Are you ready control yourself?" His dad asked, calmly. 

Mike caught his mother's eye, before releasing a ragged breath. He looked his father in the eye. He had rolled the dice on his father's lack of presence and it came up snake eyes. "Yes, sir."

"Now, get dressed and eat your breakfast. I'll be taking you to school." 

He turned and left the room, brushing by his wife and daughter, who stood still, in momentary shock.


	3. Chapter 3

Red

Dustin was already tired of Lucas and Max. It was bad enough that the red head had chosen his friend, but it was made worse when Lucas would bring up Dart and harp on his mistakes in front of her. His frustration finally boiled over one afternoon at Hopper's cabin. Lucas made a crack about Dart's escape though the Henderson storm cellar.

"What the Hell, Lucas?" Dustin said, angrily. "You weren't even there."

Caught off guard by his friend's sudden hostility, Lucas replied. "Chill, Dude. I know."

"No, you don't," Dustin said, hardening his tone. "Stop showing off."

Lucas looked at Max who looked at El who looked at Mike. Silence.

Dustin got up and left the cabin.

Grey

When it came to Dart, Dustin had to continually rationalize keeping him a secret from the Party. He knew what he was doing was dangerous. He could tell that the 'lizard' he found in his trash can was not local, much less of this world. However, it was cute and it made a funny sound. It seemed to like him and it loved the nougat he ceaselessly fed it. He watched it mutate before his very eyes, but wouldn't...couldn't kill it until the rationalization was overcome by the reality of a demodog! Even then, Dustin wouldn't be the death dealer.

White

Hopper didn't know much about angels, but he recalled some of the Sunday school stories he learned as a child. Angels were God's messengers. Angels were also God's warriors. They were supposedly devoid of evil which made them innocent of any sin. His mind worked hard to remember, but he wondered if he cared enough to. The bottom line is that his daughter was an Angel. She was so pure, innocent of the larger world, and wanting to learn more and more each day. He wished that she would never be hurt again, that he could somehow keep her from world.

She had brought him a message. A pretty damn important one; one she might not be aware of. He smiled and made a point to tell her tonight when he got home. She let him know it was ok to start over. It was okay to love another child. She brought him the message that he was being given a second chance. He wouldn't fail her.

There was the other side of her; the warrior. She was strong. So strong. Strong enough to face the world, to face the darkness she would inevitably encounter. Strong enough to protect him and her friends. She would be strong enough to face God's enemies. If there was anything that was an enemy all that is good and Holy, it was the Shadow living behind The Gate.

Black

Jim Hopper was in a black mood. His charge had just blown out the windows of their home as the culmination of a telekinetic temper tantrum. He was thankful that force of that power was not directed him at him, even if it was about him. She went into her room and slammed the door, leaving him outside and unable to get in. He yelled at her to open up.

It was the prerogative of all parents to want to throttle their children, but it was incumbent upon them not to actually do it. On top of all of it, he was out of cigarettes.

Red 2

It was weird to see Dustin really pissed. He had stormed out of the cabin so quickly that no one immediately followed. After a beat, Lucas stood and followed his friend out the door.

"Dustin!" he called, wanting his fellow Party member to turn and acknowledge him. "Dustin."

The other boy was walking, rather quickly, down the dirt road that led to the cabin. He was not interested in apologies or explanations. He just wanted to get away.

Realizing that Dustin was not going to stop, Lucas started running to catch up.

"Dustin, stop!" Lucas said as he reached the other boy and grabbed his arm to turn him around. "What's this about?"

The momentum of Lucas pulling Dustin around, brought a stiff arm into his chest. He staggered back step.

"Leave me alone, Lucas!" Dustin cried. "I'm done talking."

Lucas opened his arms helplessly. "We haven't even started talking."

"And we're not going to. Get lost, Sinclair."

Lucas knew it was serious because Dustin hardly ever called him by his last name.

"Is this about Max?" Lucas tried.

Dustin just kept walking.


	4. Chapter 4

Bland

Sick stinks! El's body ached. Her head hurt. Her nose ran. She had to blow her nose all the time which made it red and raw. There was one thing that she thought would make her feel better. She hunched over the toaster feeling the heat on her face while waiting for the golden disc to pop into her hand. She pulled her blanker tightly around her, trying keep the 'colder heat' from touching her. The Eggo sprung out of its chamber and she caught it in the air. She tore into it with her teeth, but as she chewed, she noticed something was wrong. The golden goodness didn't taste right. She looked at the box. Plain, like she liked. She wrinkled her nose and chewed more slowly, suddenly not in a hurry to swallow. She swallowed anyway. She took another bite. El never thought the day would come when Eggos didn't taste magical on her tongue. It had to be because she was sick. Sick stinks!

Sweet

The box of chocolate pieces was nice of Hopper, even after she had blown out the widows in a monster fit. He was gone again and she was missing Mike. She decided to make herself feel better by eating as many pieces as she could. What she loved most about chocolate was that it melted in her mouth. She supposed most candy did eventually, but not like this. And chocolate had so many uses. Chocolate cake. Hot chocolate. Chocolate milk. Oh, she loved that. Chocolate bars. Chocolate fudge. She had heard of that one, but hadn't tasted it yet. And chocolate covered things! Like the candies in her box. 'Whitman' must be a genius. There were so many different shapes and flavors and textures. And, when she removed each piece there was a name printed in the square. She liked 'caramel' and 'nougat' and 'cherries'. She really had to meet Mr. Whitman. He was her new hero. Mike could come with her. And, Hopper, of course. He would have to drive.

After each piece she ate, she tried to place the dark brown wrapper back in the empty square. It didn't work! The wrappers kept popping out. Frustrated she took them all out of the box and piled them next to her on the couch. Soon, she realized that half the box was empty; and with that, the next piece was not so sweet. Her 'tummy' suddenly felt heavy. So did the rest of her body. This wasn't right. Chocolate was amazing! This was not amazing. This was 'Ugh'. She slid over onto the brown wrappers, which crunched beneath her, and moaned.

Bitter

El sat on her bed, fingering the eye holes in the white sheet that was going to be her Halloween costume. She had figured it all out. She thought of all the reason's Hopper would say 'no' and the answer for all of them was simple: No one would see her. She placed the sheet over her head and adjusted it so she could see through the holes. She was not the best at cutting, but she could see. That is what mattered.

She left her bedroom and found Hopper standing in the kitchen. He smiled when he saw her. He must think she is smart or 'clev-er' for thinking ahead. His smile faded when she pointed to the door. His head started shaking before he spoke.

Even though she thought 'out of the box', he still wanted to keep her inside of it. This made her mad and she would let him know it.


	5. Chapter 5

Salt in the Wound

It was day 135 of El's seclusion and no matter how much she stocked the fire, she could not escape the chill. The small cabin was drafty as as a matter of its construction, but if the fire was maintained there was ample heat to to stave off the cold. Not today. In addition to the chill, she could not get into her stories and the books Hopper left were stale from repeated readings. She decided to make herself a snack of Eggo and peanut butter only discovery a double whammy of disappointment. The Chief had left a virtually empty jar of peanut butter and only one Eggo was left in the box. Could this day get any worse? On top of it all, she missed Mike. Achingly. It seemed that the all the distractions she had put into place were gone and all that remained was the hole that Mike filled. Today, that hole was deep.

When Hopper came home that evening, he had to do the secret knock three times and the third was a jolting banging of the code. The locks opened and he opened the door. El was no where in sight and the door to her room was closed to only a crack.

"El?" he inquired approaching her door. He peered in only to find a mound of quilts and blankets that he only guessed she was underneath. "You okay, honey?"

"Cold," came her muffled voice from under the mound. "Hungry."

"I'm glad to hear that," he replied with an upbeat tone. "I brought teryaki."

Low moan emitted from her bed. She suddenly sat up, throwing back the blankets. "Eggos?"

He grimaced. "No, I forgot them. I'm sorry. I have teryaki."

She growled in frustration and laid down hard pulling the covers back over her head with only a thought.

He nodded to himself in acceptance of her mood and decided to try and lighten things up with a bit of good news. "Guess who I saw as I was heading home?"

"Drn awy nilke," was the garbled response filtered though the series of blankets.

He ignored it. "It was Mike and Will coming out of the arcade. I waved and they waved back. Mike-"

The entire mound of flew at him covered him like a snow dropping from the branches of pines. He threw them off immediately looking at her with tempered annoyance.

"I said, 'Don't...say...MIKE!'" El screamed in frustration. Thankfully nothing was broken in the outburst. Hopper eased out of the room and waited for the storm to pass.

 

Sucker Punch

The speed with which Mary Rose had put her fist into El's nose stunned Max for a moment. The conversation had not been going well and the other girl was not willing to concede the basket to someone new to school and new to basketball as well. El reeled back an couple of steps, giving Max the time to step into space she previously occupied. Max was still relatively new to school as well, but she had experience with Mary Rose.

"What the Hell was that for?" Max barked, giving Mary Rose a two handed shove to the chest. "She made the shot and you fouled her!"

"She fouled me when pushed me before the lay in," Mary Rose replied, hands on hips. "No basket and no foul."

Max turned to look at El, whose nose was bleeding for a more obvious reason. The smoldering look on her friend's face. "You hit her in the face, Mary. After the play. You're done."

"Says who?" Mary Rose retorted. "Who made you queen of the court?"

Max stepped into the other girl's space and said: "Either you walk away or you're gonna bleed just like Jane."

El appeared at Max's side, wiping her nose on the shoulder of her shirt. "Don't fight, Max. Not worth it."

"Yeah, Max," Mary Rose mimicked. "Don't fig-"

Mary Rose's head jerked back and her eyes rolled up into her head. She staggered backward, stumbling and falling to the ground.

Max turned to El and shrugged her shoulders. "So worth it."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is more ahead, but prompts are welcome, even encouraged.

Island

It was a week into 1984 when Hopper brought home a calendar. El had seen calendars in the Lab. But never up close. She remembered seeing puppies, canyons, and even laser swords. This one was different. This one had water so blue she hardly believed it was real. There was 'sand' so white it looked like snow. In one picture there were mountains surrounded by water and, in another, only a single tree on a small 'beach'. Some pictures had small boats, others large cruise ships. It was a magical vision, a world so beautiful it could not be real.

Survival

In his dreams Mike tries to dissect the explosion, discharge of mental energy that killed the Demogorgon and took El away from him. He would freeze the moment in time and look at it from all angles; wanting a hint of what happened to her, where she went, was she alive, would she survive. Did she teleport? Was that even a power she had? Had she dissipated, burning up in energy she wielded? Was she somehow sucked through a different gate passage into the upside down? If she had survived, they had to go after her. They absolutely had to.

Lost

There were times, in his darkest moments, when Mike Wheeler thought of leaving life. Times when he could not find a way to expel Eleven from his mind. It was only in those blackest times that he would even consider ridding himself of her. Like breaking an addiction that is killing you. His love would turn to hate, hatred of himself, and hatred of the girl he loved, the girl whom had given her life to save him. All of them. How could she know what her selfless act would end up being an unending prison of grief and despair?

Other

"Are you dreaming?" Dustin asked Lucas as they two of them biked to school.

"Of course I'm dreaming," Lucas retorted. "I'm still alive, right?"

Dustin rolled his eyes. "Be serious, for a minute, Dude! Do you have nightmares?"

"Why would I tell you if I was having nightmares?" Lucas said. "That is my business."

"Who else are you going to tell, Mr. Cool? There are only a few of us who know about the other place and what lives there."

"It's gone, Dustin. El killed it. There aren't any more."

Dustin peered over his sunglasses. "Are you sure about that?"

Flashback

What haunts El in her dreams is the moment she thought she would die; the moment when all of the energy within her was being directed outward. Her mind was on the monster, but he heart was with Mike. If she died, she would never see him again. But, if she didn't kill the Demogorgon, the same result would occur. She had no choice. She had to save Mike whether she died or not. It was so hot; her whole body felt like it was going to explode. She just needed to hold on for a few more seconds. Mike…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you feel the notion, drop a kudo or a comment to let me know I'm doing something right.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I just wanted to touch base and let everyone know that my drabbles threads can go in a lot of directions. I like to use AUs, crossovers, time displacements. I like to explore non-canon ships as well as non-canon themes. However, for the most part, there is the show and canon and that's meat and potatoes of my fics. So, I hope you will continue to enjoy Stranger Drabbles going forward. I have a lot of fun writing it.

Super

While watching the movie Superman, El turns to Mike and asks. "Do you love me like Clark loves Lois?"

"Of course," Mike responds, immediately.

"Would you turn the world to save my life?" she asks innocently.

"I would do anything in my power to save you, El," he declares.

"Will you carry me in your arms as we fly over the city?" she continues.

"I will carry you wherever you want to go, but if anyone is going to fly, it's going to be you."

She giggled at that and snuggled her head into the crook of his neck and continued watching the movie.

Bat

El's attention was rapt to the screen as 'As the World Turns' spun its soapy web. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement in the ceiling. She looked up and saw the small winged creature fluttering silently near the rafters. She screamed despite herself and jumped from the couch, following the creature as she backed toward the door. The flying animal dove at her causing her to raise her hand just as it banked away from her and toward the kitchen. Lowering her hands, El followed the creature trying to determine what it was. Was it from the other side? Was is spy of the Mind Flayer? She could simply swat it with her mind, but she it was not her first choice. She opened the door and moved into the doorway. El spent the next ten minutes waiting for the creature to come her way. When it did, she simply gave it a telekinetic push out the door. Later, Hopper explained that it had been a bat, a night flyer, and given the age of the cabin, she may see more of them. She was ok with that.

Wonder

Halloween had come again and as the party decided on their costumes, El worried that nothing seemed right for her; not the ghost she once wanted to be, not Wonder Woman, too colorful, not Cyndi Lauper, too loud. Not Anne of Avonlea, too plain. It was when El was the most dejected, that Dustin floated a brilliant idea.

"El should go as herself! How awesome would that be? We could even shave her head."

"Yeah, no," Mike replied, sarcastically. "We are not shaving her head!

The party all looked at El to see what she thought. Her eyes smiled and mischievous smile curled her on her lips.

"We're not shaving your head, right, El?" Mike asked, nervously.

He eyes flicked to Dustin. "I like it."

Dustin grinned and puffed his chest in pride.

"El?" Mike inquired.

"I'm not going to shave my head, Mike," she said. "I won't have to."

"Darn straight, she won't," Dustin burst in. "Blond wig!"

El laughed. She and Dustin were in tune on this one.

"You want to go as that El?" Lucas asked, immediately seeing the brilliance of it. "Makes sense."

"That El?" Max asked. She had heard stories, but never knew what El looked like back then.

"El wore a blonde wig and a pink dress that Mike got from his sister. We had to be out in public and it was the best disguise we could come up with on short notice. Right, El?" Lucas said.

Her eyes were bright with excitement. "Right."

"It was kind of a weird riff of Dorothy in Oz, if you ask me," Dustin added. Everyone looked and with pinched brows and shook their heads.

"No one asked," Lucas added, punching his friend in the shoulder.

"Are you sure that's what you want to do?" Mike said as he came to sit by El in the love seat.

"Yes," she said firmly.

"And why not?" Dustin chimed in, again. "She was in that dress when she flipped the van. She was in that dress when she broke the asshole's arm and levitated Mike out of the abyss. She was in that dress when she killed the freaking Demogorgon! Her Mage Robes, dude!"

"Dustin, Shut up!" Mike exclaimed in exasperation. "Let El talk. Dude, she already agreed with you!"

El was too pleased with the idea to let any drama ruin her mood. She turned to Mike. "You have to find me a pink dress and blond wig, Mike. It has be right."

"I won't let your first Halloween be a bust," Mike said, earnestly. "I'll make sure we have everything."

"We could even fake the nosebleed!" Dustin enthused.

"You'll have the nosebleed, if you don't stop yelling in my ear!" Lucas barked.

Hawk

"You need to stop that right now," Max demanded, without raising her voice.

"What?" Lucas protested, playfully.

"I'm trying to study and you're being creepy?" Max said from her desk in the corner of her room.

Lucas lay on her bed with the perfect view of her heavenly profile. "I have to live up to my reputation," he replied.

She turned from her book in feigned frustration. "And, I have work to do. So do you."

"That is definitely a sad story, Miss Mayfield, but what kind of Stalker would I be if I didn't stare at you long enough to make you uncomfortable. Now, come her and give me a kiss."

"You know if I do that, no studying is going to happened. We need to be good. At least until I'm done."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Lucas continued. "There is a spot right below your right ear, a certain freckle, I'm very interested in studying."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have the notion, please leave a kudo or a comment to let me know I'm doing something right. :-)


	8. Throw A Punch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a Stranger Things prompt by Mira-Jade. 
> 
> Flash fic.

Throw a punch 

In the year following the closing of The Gate, Hopper knew that being Dad meant teaching a horribly neglected teenager the basics of life, including how to navigate personal relationships.

Socialization.

He shook his head at the enormity of the task ahead. His little girl was 13 and a relative blank slate. Her speech was stunted. Her education was almost nothing. Her ability to deal with common emotions and social conflicts was reactionary. He had a lot of work to do and he decided the next lesson would be about self control. It was absolutely critical for a girl like El to be able to control her rage, separately and together, with the power she had within her.

It all sounded so ominous. But the lesson was born out of very simple question. It happened after dinner while the two were watching Family Ties.

"Dad," El asked, matter of fact. "What's a bully?"

He did not have the ability to stop the show in the middle, but it was El's choice so he decided to turn it off and address her question. The question did not immediately concern him given what he had seen her do, but his concern was more for her emotional welfare.

"How did that come up?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Mike has a bully," she said, a little forlornly. "Still."

"I would have thought those boys learned their lesson the first time around. Not that I condone breaking arms and making boys pee themselves when the situation is less...life threatening."

She smiled, but still appeared concerned and unsure.

"Well, to answer your question, a bully is person who feels bad about themselves, or is embarrassed about something. So, in order to protect himself, or herself, they turn their anger outside of themselves, seeking weaker people to victimize."

El squinted her eyes and scrunched her nose as she said "Victim-ize?"

Hopper smiled, acknowledging that he took his explanation too far. "I'm sorry. A bully wants other people to feel bad so that they can feel better about themselves."

"Even though they feel bad inside?" El said, uncertainly.

"Exactly!" her dad replied, a little more excited than, perhaps, he should be. "I know it's complicated, but it doesn't mean you should let a bully be mean to you."

El shook her head emphatically. "No bully will hurt me, Dad. Or Mike. Or The Party. I will make sure."

Hopper inhaled, taking a moment to regain his calm. "I have no doubt you will, El, but you cannot use your power when you are out in public. We have already added that to the rules, right?"

She looked at him sheepishly, he lower lip protruding more than normal. "Right."

"What I need to do is teach you how to fight...without your powers. With your fists."

El's lips parted in a sinister grin and her voice lowered to a gravelly roughness. "Yeah, beat down."

Hopper's eyes widened and he shook his head again. "Where do you get this stuff?"

"Lots of tube, Dude," she retorted, playfully. "And Mike."

He knew that much was true.

"Come with me," he said, patting her knee and rising from the couch.

"Now?" she asked, puzzled. "You want to teach me now?"

"Why not?" he answered, enthusiastically. "No time like the present." Yes, he had just used that little cliché. Thankfully, El had never heard it before.

"The present?" she asked. "But, what about Alex P. Keaton?"

"The present means now, El," he explained. "Alex P. Keaton will be waiting for you next week."

"Awww...Dad," she whined as her shoulders slumped. Despite the complaints, she rose from the couch and follow him to the small place that separated the kitchen and the living room.

Hopper got his knees, took El by the shoulders, and positioned her in front of him. "I'm going to teach you to throw a punch."

Without warning, his new daughter stepped forward and punched him in the chest. It was a powerful punch, but one he knew was not meant to hurt him.

"How was that?" El asked, confidently.

"Not bad," he replied, rubbing the spot softly. "But what you do not want to do is let the other person know ahead of time that you are going to punch them. That is called telegraphing. Try that same punch again."

She threw the punch, but this time, he blocked it and with his other hand tapped her on the shoulder with this hand. She punched again which he blocked, but this time, she countered with her other fist and hit his left shoulder.

“Very good,” he said, praising her adaptability. “Nice counter punch.”

“Thanks,” she said, breathing heavier than she should be.

“You okay?” he asked. “We didn’t do that much for you to be breathing so hard."

El clenched her teeth and redness flushed her cheeks. “I do not like bullies.”

Hopper’s face softened in compassion for girl who had been subject to the worst kind isolation by the worst kind of bullies. He reached for her and pulled her into this arms. She was stiff with the cold fury and rage he both understood and feared.

“It’s okay, El,” she whisper into her hair. “You are safe. Breath.”

He could feel the rise and fall of her chest against his as it slowed and the tension in her body bled away. He pulled away from her, but not very far, and met her eyes.

“I love you, Dad,” she said softly.

He could feel the tears welling in his eyes against his will. He hugged her again, the tears yielding to gravity.

“I love you, too. How about we watch Newhart?” he said though emotion. “It’s no Family Ties, but it’ll work, right?

“Right,” she said, nodding her head once with emphasis.

They returned to the couch and snuggled up just as Newhart’s theme song ended. Hopper wondered if he had chosen the right time to teach her how to fight. He hadn’t taught her much, but it would keep. She was a quick study, which surprised him not at all. She wasn’t going to be boxing anytime soon, but it was clear that that if El need to put a down and mean girl or a mean boy, for that matter, she would able to handle herself just fine.


End file.
